


Baby Blue

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Rimming, Romance, Second War with Voldemort, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-22
Updated: 2009-12-22
Packaged: 2018-10-27 12:42:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10809252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: A year apart teaches Dean and Seamus some things they never knew. Will they make it through the pain to finally see each other again?





	Baby Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Written for HP_summersmut on livejournal 2009. Lyrics by Bob Dylan

_You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last.  
But whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast. _

  
Denizens from the 'New and Improved' Ministry were coming down the street of Dean Thomas' cozy Muggle village. He could spot them from a mile away, though they were trying to go unnoticed. Dean supposed they didn't realize that Muggles would never wear black robes and walk down the street in a straight line, nearly marching from home to home. From his second story bedroom, Dean could see the list in their hands as they compared house numbers. They were looking for him, he knew they were. He had seen the notices; he knew that Muggle-borns were standing trial in every high court in the wizarding world for stealing magic. He was certain he was a half-blood, but not having any proof and not knowing the whereabouts of his father had Dean backed into a corner. Dean had to get out, to leave everything behind and keep his mother safe. 

He grabbed his favorite leather knapsack, tossing into it a combination of Muggle and wizard money he had been saving up for emergencies. He cast a spell to make his sleeping bag and pillow small enough to nestle in his pack on the bottom. He did the same with a combination of seasonal clothing, from sweaters to light shirts depending on where he ended up, and placed the tiny pile atop the small sleeping set. On top of all of that, he threw in a pair of sneakers and some essential maps that had also been shrunk to fit in the knapsack. He grabbed his CD player, and all of his Bob Dylan CDs. He zipped up his knapsack and slung it over his back. 

Dean paused to look at himself in the mirror, running his dark hands over his face and hair. He looked worn and frightened, like he had looked all summer. He never went outside anymore, for fear of being caught by those who wanted to put an end to his kind. He wrote to his best mate, Seamus, in code, answering his frantic and worried letters cryptically, and in a language only Seamus would ever understand. Dean was unsure how he was going to make it out there, hiding on his own...how he was going to survive an indeterminate amount of time without Seamus. 

He walked over to his writing desk and pulled out two envelopes. On the front of the first one was his neat writing and a scrawled singular 'Mom'. It held no seal. The second one had a few stamps, no return address, and Seamus Finnegan's mailing address listed on the front. Dean thanked Merlin that Seamus was at least part Muggle so that he could still receive unnoticed and unmonitored mail. He walked carefully down the stairs, pausing at the living room's picture window to look at the progress of the Ministry brigade before finding his mother in the kitchen. 

"Mom..." Dean started, finding her kneading bread dough on the counter. 

"I know, love, I just saw them," she looked up at him, her dark brown eyes bloodshot and tears streaming down her face. "This world you live in, it's just...how can someone be so cruel? How can I just stand by and let them take my boy from me?" 

"I won't be taken. I can take care of myself. I've learned a lot these past two years to get me by. It's unfair, but I have faith in the good side. We'll get this turned around yet," Dean answered her, putting an arm around her shoulders. He wanted desperately to believe his own words. 

"I don't think I can stand it, Dean...thinking about you out there, lost and alone, potentially being captured at any second," his mother wept. 

Dean took her into an embrace and tried to memorize the unique smell that always wafted from her...like hairspray and cake. "I have to go mum," Dean said, handing her the letters. "When the coast is clear, please put this in the post for Seamus. He needs some way of knowing," Dean said, trying not to cry at the thought of leaving behind everyone he loved. 

His mother nodded, and her hands lingered even as Dean grabbed his broom and slipped out the back door. 

He flew low, his boots brushing along the dirt and his shoulders hitting the high wheat as he sped toward the nearest, darkest forest. 

_Yonder stands your orphan with his gun,  
Crying like a fire in the sun. _

  
Seamus Finnegan was an absolute paranoid wreck, which was saying something. The normally cool and confident young man paced the hallway near Ravenclaw Tower nervously, his hands shaking in his trouser pockets. He was waiting for the timed Decoy Detonators to go off inside the Ravenclaw Common Room, distracting that bitch, Alecto Carrow, and the rest of the dirty Death Eater staff while Neville and Ginny were breaking into Snape's office and Luna was standing guard. Seamus knew he was going to get it. He just hoped that Ginny could manage to get what she needed to help Harry. 

After hearing about someone breaking into the Ministry and freeing all of the Muggle-borns who were going on trial and being held there, Neville had got the old D.A back together. They couldn’t meet often, and communicated in coded notes and whispers, but they were there. They all knew that it had to have been Harry who had broken into the Ministry, and they didn’t believe for a second that Ron had spattergroit. It was because they knew there was still a fight to be had that Seamus was planning a distraction. 

He leaned against the wall to calm his nerves, taking slow and even breaths as his hand clutched a worn-out piece of parchment in his pocket. He kept Dean's letter with him at all times, in hopes of feeling closer to his missing friend. It had been weeks since the post had come, and since then Seamus' life had spiraled down lower and lower. Now, he was facing a horrible punishment in exchange for the small chance to help the side of good. If he was honest with himself, he was doing it for Dean...in the hopes that Dean could soon come back to him safe and sound. 

Dean Thomas had been Seamus' best mate since they met on the train in first year. Dean had been relieved that Seamus was at least part muggle and could understand what he was talking about. Seamus had been excited to have a friend who was impressed with his humor and all of his tricks, when most wrote him off as attention starved. Ever since that day, they had never strayed far from each other, opting to spend summer weeks at each others’ homes in hopes of finding adventure wherever they went. 

As their world and their lives got darker, Seamus and Dean fought beside each other, always finding a partner to count on. Even when the Dark Lord rose in their fourth year Dean stood by him. Seamus had made dire mistakes in judgment following that event and he was glad that Dean managed to understand and forgive him. 

When Voldemort’s forces took over the Ministry this summer, Seamus knew that they would keep fighting. What Seamus didn't know was that they would have to fight far from each other, in almost different worlds, and with different consequences. When the post came just before he left for Hogwart's, Seamus's whole outlook on life seemed to darken. 

Seamus tried to breathe silently in the stark stillness of the hallway. The Decoy Detonators should be working soon, and he knew he would have to run and endure some serious pain after that. Waiting for the explosions became excruciating, and Seamus pulled out Dean's letter to read it again. 

_Seamus,  
I'm sorry it has come to this, but I'm leaving. I'm not coming back to Hogwarts this year, and I don't know when you'll hear from me. The Ministry squads came to my house to bring me in for questioning, but I managed to escape. Now I'm lying low, and won't be able to communicate with anyone for safety reasons. This pure-blood nonsense has got to stop! _

_No, fuck that! It should have never started in the first place! Who let this happen? Who let the Ministry fall? Why do I have to leave everything I love behind because my father disappeared and my mother is a Muggle? I don't know when I'll see you again, mate. But I will do everything I can to see you again soon. It hurts just as much that I have to leave you behind...and...Well...I love you, man._

_Keep fighting, and let's hope Harry has something up his sleeve.  
-Dean _

  
Sometimes, when everything seemed like it would fall apart, the rest of the words would blur away, and all Seamus could see was 'Love'. He had no idea what it meant, or why he wanted it to mean so much, but knowing that Dean was out there kept Seamus trying as hard as he could. 

Suddenly, a loud boom echoed in the hall and screams came pouring from the Ravenclaw Common Room. Seamus could see the rush of black-clad staff members making their way to the chaos as students poured out of the doorway. As soon as Seamus saw Snape, he tapped his wand against his DA coin, and ran in the other direction. 

He knew he would get caught. Even as he made his way to the courtyard to hide in one of the porticos, he could feel the eyes on him. He stopped to catch his breath, waiting for the inevitable. He clutched the paper in his hand, bit his lip, and waited for the footsteps to find him. 

The hollow eyes, round face, and gnarled teeth of Alecto Carrow peeked around the corner, her mouth turning into a sneer. 

"Oh how could I have guessed it was your nasty little half-blood ass?" she said, with a falsely sweet tone that didn't match her foreboding appearance. "Do you think you can just blow up my damned common room and get away with it?" 

"That's Flitwick's common room and you know it, you hag," Seamus spat, going down in a blaze of glory. He knew he couldn't fight her because more would come and it would be worse, but his mouth was another story. 

"He willingly let me lead!" she screeched. "I don't have to explain anything to the likes of you." 

"Then shut your mouth. Your teeth are making me vomit," he said, feigning sickness. 

Her hand closed around a loose brick in the courtyard, and Seamus saw blackness when the offending stone met his temple. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

When his eyes creaked open, he was tied to a chair in the middle of a dark, shrouded office. 

"Oh he's awake, dear brother! Whatever shall we do with this little piece of shit now?" Alecto asked while leering at Seamus as he tried to fight through his dizziness before he vomited. His mouth was taped, and he doubted that anyone would try to save him should he get sick. 

"Teach half-bloods their place, of course, my lovely sister," a man's voice came from someplace close behind Seamus. 

"Then I shall drain him of some of that dirty blood," Alecto said, and immediately Seamus' shirt ripped open as a cold blade was pressed to his bare skin. He clenched his jaw, readying for the pain, and forcing himself not to whimper. 

"Oh come on you little Irish rogue, you can cry a little. I won't tell," Amycus whispered in his ear. 

Seamus turned a defiant stare at him. 

"Oh no you won't! You're going to fucking watch! My sister's blade is her pride and joy, it makes cuts that take forever to heal! You better respect the work she'll do on you!" the man shouted, grabbing Seamus' hair and forcing his chin against his chest. 

Seamus was now face to face with the shining knife poised to cut right down his sternum. Alecto licked her lips, hunger in her eyes, and drew a line down the center of his chest. As the red liquid poured from him, the pain burned, and Seamus felt as though he was slowly being cut into two pieces. He tried to keep his eyes open in defiance, even as the knife cut horizontally across his abdomen, looking like a ‘T’ on his torso. He could feel bile rising in his throat as his blood cascaded down his legs. The pain was making him even dizzier than he had been, and his vision blurred into masses of red and flesh. When Alecto ripped the arms of his shirt and began slicing his limbs, ripping at muscles, Seamus' world went black once again. 

_Look out the saints are comin' through  
And it's all over now, Baby Blue. _

  
"Oh...oh..." Seamus could hear sobs coming from his right side. "He really should learn to keep that mouth of his shut." 

"But you know, good things can happen when I open up my mouth too, Lav," Seamus answered, winking at her even in his groggy state. 

"Well, I never!" came the voice of an older woman on his left. 

Seamus jumped and looked over to see Madame Pomfrey holding a basin of water in her lap. She dipped a pink-tinged rag back in the basin before running it carefully over his cuts. 

This time, Seamus didn't hold back and he yelled out in pain. 

"I know, I know. I can't believe that there is no way to stop this," Madame Pomfrey whispered, making another painful sweep over his wounds. "I'm sorry Mr. Finnegan, but I can't seal your wounds. I'm going to have to stitch you up and let you heal the muggle way." Her own dignified and sharp voice shook, although she was holding back tears. "My students...I can't keep them safe..." he heard her whisper as she threaded a frightening looking needle. 

Seamus was given a potion for pain, and Lavender gripped his hand tightly before the nurse began to stitch the long gashes across his upper body. The needle only felt like a small sting with the benefit of the potion, and Seamus was sealed up in record time. He lifted his head, noting that the pain there was gone as well, and saw Neville and Ginny standing at the foot of his bed. 

"Well, at least I could heal your concussion," Madame Pomfrey said, vanishing away her healing tools. "But your cuts … no … your gashes, will need to heal with your own antibodies. Dittany and Murtlap should offer relief, but it's up to bandages now.” 

She turned her attention to Neville and asked, “Mr. Longbottom, can you help to make sure your roommate changes his bandages every few hours and applies salve liberally?" Her tearful voice was gone and her manner was back to business as usual. 

"Yes m'am," he said quietly, even as a storm brewed behind his eyes. 

As soon as the nurse left, Neville and Ginny were at Seamus' other side. 

"Did you guys get it?" Seamus said, anxious to see if it had all paid off. 

"No," Neville said as Ginny screwed her face up in anger. 

"Shite! Are you okay? Did you get caught? Where's Luna? Is she hurt?" Seamus said, trying to rise up despite his painful injuries. 

"Calm down," Neville said, the storm in his eyes fading for the return of the tender and empathetic look that was so characteristic of him. "Snape got us, but for some reason, he just gave us detention with Hagrid. Luna is back in her own common room...curfew you know." 

"So it was all for fecking nothing!" Seamus shouted. The movements in his chest made him consequently cry out in pain. 

"Shay..." Lavender whispered, gripping the sides of his face and running her long fingers down his skin to soothe him. 

She'd been like a sister to him for so many years now that her particular brand of comfort always eased his unruly spirit. He was always curious why he never tried dating her, but she didn't seem interested in him either, and he needed a friend this year. His breathing began to slow as she whispered words of comfort in his ear. 

"They're going to kill one of us soon," Neville said, the growl back in his voice as he turned to Ginny." We need to start setting up an escape plan, or at least someplace to hide." 

"We've got the perfect spot," Ginny smiled, and she and Neville were off to make plans as Seamus drifted off to sleep, Lavender’s hands running through his short sandy hair. 

His dreams were filled with deep dark eyes, and smooth coffee-colored skin pressing up against him. Seamus slept happily as his subconscious took him to a place he had never thought he would go. 

_The highway is for gamblers, better use your sense.  
Take what you have gathered from coincidence. _

  
Pain began to rumble through Dean's stomach as he stumbled along a hastily cleared forest trail. According to the hiking map he had purchased at the start of his journey, he was still miles away from the next town. He resigned himself to a night of hunger, set up his sleeping pack, and cast some spells upon the tree branches until he had a makeshift, impervious hut. After a few untraceable spells he had learned from Hermione Granger during the D.A., Dean stretched out along his bedroll. 

He fingered the pile of books he kept in his knapsack, paperback novels that he had brought for entertainment, but was too hungry to concentrate on reading. Instead, he pulled out his CD player and turned it on, making sure the battery life was still good. He didn't have the means to get or carry many batteries, so he could only listen to his music sparingly. He only brought a few CDs to save room, including the one piece of music he couldn't live without: Bob Dylan's Greatest Hits. As long as he had Dylan's perspective, Dean could manage his seclusion for a little while longer. 

He let the melodies and words drift in and out of his head as Dean went to a secret place deep in his mind...a safer place, where Seamus' smiling face always floated into his mind and Dylan's music weaved in and out of his ears whenever the nights were like this. To Dean, Seamus was the goal, the light at the end of the tunnel. Dean craved his freedom, longed for peace in his world, but all of that would come if only he could see Seamus again. If only they could stop fighting and just go back to the days that brought about that shining smile to the Irishman's face. Dean found himself dwelling on Seamus more often than usual while he was alone in the wilderness. He figured it was the solitude, but as his belly stirred at imagining Seamus next to him, Dean began to get uncomfortable with his own feelings for his best mate. 

He turned off his player and curled up inside of his sleeping bag, trying to find warmth in the cold November air. As he shook from hunger and cold, he heard a twig snap, and his heart began to race. He gripped his wand tightly and hoped his wards would hold. Dean could hear the footsteps approaching and he closed his eyes, held his breath, and tried to hold very still. 

“ _Hominum Revelio_ ," the clear-voiced man whispered, and Dean took a battle stance. “I know you're there, show yourself or we start casting _'reducto'_ in every direction!" 

Dean walked, wand drawn, outside of his hut, feeling he had no choice. His insides shook with fear, but he steadied his muscles, making his appearance look as hard as he could. 

"I don't want any trouble, I'm just resting for the night. Kindly take your wand down and move on," Dean said, training his wand on the tall man. 

"I, on the other hand, am just passing through looking for a good place to rest. I’m not looking for any trouble either. The problem is that I don't know if you're lying or not," the wizard said, though his voice did not sound menacing or suspicious at all. Dean could have sworn he detected a laugh. “I’m Ted Tonks.” 

"I believe this is a conundrum," Dean said, also beginning to sound more amiable, but not lowering his wand. Suddenly, a thought dawned on him. "Tonks!? I know someone by that name! Her hair is pink and she's an Auror! She's on my side!" Dean shouted, almost forgetting to hold his wand steady in excitement. 

The man lowered his wand. "That would be my daughter, and her hair isn't always pink. T'were blue last I saw o her. She's on some sort o’ mission for the Order and I'm in hiding, so I haven't seen her in ages," the man said, flashing Dean a toothy grin. 

Dean let out a breath and lowered his wand as well. Dean reached out and shook his hand. "Dean Thomas, Muggle-born on the run so to speak." 

"Blimey though, son, you can't be but 18 yourself," Ted said, genuine concern across his face. 

"Eighteen years exactly, sir. I should be in my seventh year at Hogwarts, but..." 

"Say no more," Ted said, putting his hand on Dean's shoulder and looking grim. "Yer to be joining me on a journey to nowhere." 

_The empty-handed painter from your streets_  
Is drawing crazy patterns on your sheets.   
This sky, too, is folding under you   
And it's all over now, Baby Blue. 

  
Seamus was lying low. He was in his bed by curfew, in the common room right after dark. At least there, McGonagall was the only person who ever interrupted the Gryffindor misery. Seamus did all of his assignments, because what else could he do? He attended all classes, sitting in the back, in the shadows and not saying a word. Neville had finally convinced Seamus that if they were going to make it out of this, if they were going to continue the fight, Seamus needed to keep his mouth shut and his eyes down. 

It was done easily enough, but something inside of him felt like he was turning dry and crumbling to pieces. He knew he had to stay, he had to wait for news, and he had to help Harry do whatever it was Harry was doing. 

As another night loomed through the windows of his barren dorm (a cold and lonely place, with only Neville for company), Seamus found himself thinking of Dean. He just wanted one word, one scrap of information to tell him that things were okay. In the evenings, he and Neville would gather the remaining Gryffindors around to listen to 'Potterwatch' and Seamus held still, kept silent, and waited for the sound of Dean's name, the mention of anything to do with his best mate. Now Seamus lay, hands behind his head, watching the shadows form on the canopy of his red and gold bed, trying to imagine Dean hiding -- Dean surviving. 

Seamus tried to stop thinking so much about him. He would screw his eyes shut and picture the latest blouse Parvati had been wearing, or the stories he had heard of two Ravenclaw girls sneaking off to parts unknown to 'enjoy each other'. However, no amount of conjuring up images of naked birds would rid his mind of Dean. All of the feminine eyes, hair, lips and breasts he had ever been able to conjure always turn into the dark eyes, smooth lips, and short, rough curls of his best friend. Seamus felt as though he might go mad, as if he would continue to crumble away without Dean near him. He justified that he couldn't be randy while he was worried about his best mate, which his mind only dwelled out of worry and fear, and came from nowhere else deep inside of him. 

However, that night, everything changed. As Seamus tossed and turned, trapping himself in a tangle of white sheets, Dean once again invaded his dreams. 

_This time, he was smiling. He was brandishing a handful of paintbrushes dripping in different bright colors. The paint flowed from the brushes and across Dean's skin, his bare chest coated with streaks of paint. He swirled the paintbrushes around Seamus’ bed sheets and the colors molded and changed, swirling in front of him. Pictures began to form of summers in Ireland, swimming naked in the streams and waterfalls. He saw sled trips down the hills of Hertfordshire with Dean and his little sisters. Images of Dean and Seamus, sitting side by side in the common room and cooking up their own little plots and pranks manifested in the pools of color._

_Seamus looked up at Dean to smile, to welcome him back, and to hold his paint-covered body against his own in relief. But Dean's face grew serious, and suddenly his full lips were pressed against Seamus'. Seamus gasped, momentarily frozen before leaning back into the kiss. Before he could slide his tongue over Dean's lips to beg entrance, Dean pulled back and ran his paint-covered fingers across Seamus' bare chest. Seamus gasped at the cool and welcome feeling, soothed by the way Dean's large hands circled over his body. Dean pressed his bare chest to Seamus', kissing up his neck before gently biting down on his earlobes. When Dean leaned back slightly, the pattern on Seamus' chest was mirrored on his._

_"I'm okay. I'm here now. We can protect each other," Dean whispered in Seamus' ear, trailing kisses down his jaw. Seamus reached out and took Dean's face in his hands, kissing him fervently and desperately._

_"Don’t leave, Dean. I'll make sure they won’t hurt you," Seamus said urgently._

_Dean shook his head, running his hands down to Seamus' navel and leaving trails with his fingers in the paint. Suddenly Dean's hands were toying with the waistband of Seamus' pants, and Seamus found himself thrusting upward with want._

_When Dean's large, warm, painted hands closed around Seamus' erection, he cried out, pressing back into him with an overwhelming need. Dean kissed Seamus passionately as he continued his ministrations, bringing Seamus to the brink._

Suddenly, Seamus' eyes shot open and his orgasm flowed out of him in the cold darkness of an empty four-poster bed. Seamus sat frozen, trying to grasp what had just happened. 

"Shay?" Neville said sleepily from the next bed. Seamus jumped, and looked over to see Neville sitting up and rubbing his eyes. 

"Nev, I um...I just..." Seamus stumbled, embarrassment seeping in. Had he talked in his sleep? Had he called out for Dean? 

"You alright?" Neville asked. 

Seamus swallowed hard and simply nodded. 

"Okay." 

"Listen Nev, did I..." Seamus started, needing to know what kind of damage control needed to be done. 

"I won't say anything. It never happened," Neville, whispered, his smile kind and his eyes sympathetic. 

Before Seamus could try to cover anything up, or glean a further explanation, Neville had put out the lights and rolled over to sleep. Seamus sighed, staring again at the shadows above his bed, and seeing Dean's face everywhere. 

_All your seasick sailors, they are rowing home.  
All your reindeer armies, are all going home. _

  
They had survived the winter, thanks partially to a new traveling companion, Dirk Creswell. His heating charms, fires, and even magical cooking skills made everything at least border on bearable as they trudged the snows and found refuge. With Mr. Creswell came two grumpy goblins, Gornuck and Griphook, who proved useful with their brand of magic. They could fashion cooking utensils and shelter more easily than the most experienced wizard. 

Dean could feel April coming, as the rains increased and the ground became saturated, wet, and green instead of covered in soft white. Dirk had managed to find a radio, and Dean was thankful to be able to listen to 'Potterwatch'. At least he knew everyone he cared about was alive, though he could not imagine they were that well. 

As they did more times than he wanted to admit, Dean's thoughts drifted to Seamus. How could Seamus be surviving in that school with so many Ministry plants and Death Eaters running things? Seamus had magical blood, but he was a victim of their prejudice as well. Dean was positive of this. Dean knew Seamus wasn't at home, for Seamus would never abandon his post at school to go into hiding, not when so much was at stake. He ached to just rush into Hogwarts, wand blazing, grab Seamus, and take him into hiding, as well. It would only be a matter of time before Seamus would be hunted too. 

"Well, young master Thomas, what seems to be distracting you tonight?" Dirk took a seat next to him around their small fire. 

"The weak human mind I'm assuming," mumbled Griphook." 

I'm sure that's what it is Griphook," Dirk said, rolling his eyes before addressing Dean once again. "Did you leave a someone special back there?" 

Dean froze when he realized he was about to say ‘yes,’ thinking immediately about his lifelong best mate, before realizing that Dirk was probably talking about a bird. "No, sir. No woman to speak of." 

"Ahhh. 'Tis easier to keep yourself safe when you're not constantly dwelling on what you've left behind," Dirk said, his eyes clouding over darkly. "Bad enough when a young man has to leave his home like that..." 

Dean knew that Mr. Creswell had escaped prison, leaving no word to his sons or his wife. He hoped that they knew he was okay, but he couldn't risk putting them in danger. Every time he ate dinner, Dean could see Dirk's eyes cloud over in pain, looking to the north as if he was trying to get back to The Highlands by willing himself there. Dean didn't envy his misery, but certainly felt a bit of it in his urge to get back to Hogwarts. 

Dean also knew that Ted Tonks had left behind a wife and a newly-married daughter, who he had found out had married the best Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Dean had ever had, Professor Lupin. Griphook and Gornuck may have had families, if Goblins even did that sort of thing, but they never talked except to belittle the Wizards. 

Dirk interrupted Dean’s reflections, shouting excitedly, "But enough about that! It's a celebration! Ted has caught a rabbit, and we're having stew!" Dirk then enlarged a cauldron that had been hidden in his pocket. "The goblins are helping him properly gut the creature, and I think they get some sort of sick pleasure out of it or something." 

Dean welcomed the distraction of cutting the vegetables they had just 'borrowed' from a farmer and putting them into the warming pan while Dirk made a beautiful fire using a collection of complicated spells. Dean's mouth watered at the idea of a new and different meal for them, one that wouldn’t consist of stolen bread and river fish. 

Suddenly, Dean heard a frightening growl and the patter of small bare feet against the wet and muddy trail. 

"Snatchers! Death Eaters!" Gornuck yelled, but he was quickly cut down, landing face first in the mud, horrible smoke issuing from a wound in his back. 

Ted came running after, his face wounded and dripping with blood. "Dean, hide! Please!" Ted cried, casting curses over his shoulder along the trail. 

Dean brandished his wand next to Dirk, waiting to head the offenders off and try to fight their way out. Just then, Griphook came running from a different direction, having successfully evaded the captors. The three stood like statues, waiting to spring and attack, as Ted tried to frantically heal himself. As the would-be attackers approached, Dean sent the first curse, causing an unfamiliar man to go flying. 

But before he could get another curse off, Dirk and Ted had thrown him back, shielding him, but also preventing him from helping. "Dean, go!" Ted yelled, his wounds hastily healed, but still bleeding. 

Streams of magic were flowing freely from Griphook, creating a strong shield around the front of them, even as the wand fight had intensified against the Death Eaters. 

Dean was not going anywhere. He couldn't, not after all of the months these men had helped take care of him, keeping him from loneliness and hunger. A twig snapped and Dean spun around only to get petrified, falling with a sickening sound into the mud and leaves on the forest floor. A tall, burly, hairy, and almost inhuman man was leering at Dean, laughing as he struggled to shout a warning to the others in front of them. The animal-like Death Eater bared set of sharp, yellow teeth and stepped over Dean's prone form to get to Dirk. 

Dean couldn't close his eyes as the man sank his teeth into Dirk's neck, ripping off pieces of flesh as the man screamed. The blood dripped onto Dean, stinging his eyes and flowing into his mouth and nose. If his throat had not been frozen in place, he would have surely vomited. As Ted turned to help Dirk, he was hit with a Stunning Spell and fell easily. Griphook couldn't keep the shield up and fight, and was soon wrapped in a series of ropes flowing from a Death Eater's wand. 

A deafening silence fell over the entire forest, and the only sounds coming from the man still slurping on the flesh of Dirk, the disgusting smell filling Dean's nostrils with an intense iron-like scent that tasted metallic on his tongue. Dean was sure he was going to die, that this was it. In truth, he was surprised he had lasted this long without capture, but capture and death were different. This felt like death; like doom and loss wrapped up and laid before his frozen feet. 

Griphook was tossed unceremoniously next to Dean and met his eyes, a look of terror on the normally emotionless goblin. Dean closed his eyes and tried to take himself somewhere else, tried to avoid harsh reality in his last moments. 

"Well, Fenrir, I'm sure we'll get no money for the bloke you've just noshed on, but I doubt we would have anyway. Get the other dirty Muggle man too. Might as well not have him go to waste!" a man said, his footsteps circling Dean and Griphook. 

"Yes, but we can definitely get cash for the boy. He's got to be young enough to be Hogwart's age, and even if he isn't, it's worth a try," said a Snatcher, his high-pitched and throaty voice sounding maniacal against the carnage. 

"Keep the boy...and the goblin. I think they are rounding those up too," the man who seemed to be in charge said. He leaned down close to Griphooks face. "Nasty little creatures can’t hide forever. We will get your secrets, and then you can die a slow death; one befitting cowards." 

Griphook, for his part, responded with silence and a look of defiance. 

The animal-like man, Fenrir, proceeded with bloodied hands and face over to Ted, snapping his neck with one grotesque crack. Finally, Dean's mind faded, degenerating into a sweet madness to avoid the sounds of Ted's gruesome death. 

Dean's body floated back to the Gryffindor Common Room, where he was sitting on the couch next to Seamus and playing Exploding Snap. He could hear Seamus' laugh, feel the warm touch of his friend’s leg against his own, and smell the smoky scent that always enveloped him when Seamus was near. Dean would die in that memory; die in the delusion that he was with Seamus instead of the reality that threatened to torture him. 

Dean came to when more shouting and violence occurred. After capturing Harry, Ron and Hermione, and summarily deducing that was who they were looking at, Greyback and Scabior decided to take the entire group to ‘the Malfoy’s place’ and summon the Dark Lord. Dean was no longer on the run for being Muggle-born, but was about to come face to face with You-Know-Who, himself. The thought made him want to vomit in fear even as his consciousness was waning. 

_The lover who just walked out your door  
Has taken all his blankets from the floor. _

  
It had all happened so fast, one second Dobby had been there, and the next second Dean, Luna, and Mr. Ollivander had been being dropped at the seashore and had been told to run to Ron's brother, Bill. Luna had grabbed Dean's hand and had started running toward the front door of the cottage up on a sandy hill. Dean's long legs had easily kept up with her quick pace, and they had reached the door in no time. Dean had begun to pound frantically when Luna had stalled while trying to locate the knocker. He had needed to see a friendly face, needed to get Hermione help, and he needed Harry to get out of danger. The world needed Harry to get out of that place: Malfoy Manor. 

The door swung open and Dean came face to face with a wand, another one creeping over the shoulder of a tall man with long red hair. "Who the hell are you and how did you break down the wards?" Bill Weasley shouted. 

"Hello William. This is Dean Thomas, and you may remember me as Luna Lovegood. A House Elf on friendly terms with Harry seems to have thought this place would be the best for escape, so here we are." Luna said, the cadence and tone in her voice remaining very even. 

"Xeno's girl?" Bill asked, lowering his wand and nodding to his wife, Fleur, that it was okay. 

"Yes, I am. I'm sorry but I don't think you know us well enough to ask security questions, so can you just trust us?" Luna said, actually smiling at the look of distrust on Fleur's face. 

"I'm in Harry and Ron's year," Dean said. 

Bill nodded, signaling he needed more information. 

"I was on the run...Muggle-born...and I was captured. While they had me, they found Harry, Ron, and Hermione, though I'm not sure how. They took us to Malfoy Manor. Draco was there. We were thrown in the dungeon, and Luna and Mr. Ollivander were already down there..." 

"But ‘ow did you get 'ere?" Fleur piped up, looking still suspicious. 

"Harry said something to a piece of glass and a House Elf showed up. Ron told him we should come here. The elf dropped us off and went back for Harry, Ron and Hermione," Dean said, unsure of how much more he could tell. Harry seemed to want to keep some things secret, so Dean didn't mention the sword, Griphook, or what had happened to Hermione. 

There was another long silence as the waves crashed against the shore. Bill examined the two carefully and eventually nodded, letting them in. 

"Oh please, Mr. Ollivander is still out there. He's very weak! We've been in that dungeon a very long time," Luna said, her voice breaking for the first time. 

"I'll get him," Bill said, rushing out to the oceanfront. 

"You need some 'elp mon cher, you look 'orrible," Fleur said, putting an arm around Luna and guiding her in. Dean stayed on the porch, looking out at the beach and waiting for Harry. 

Eventually, Ron apparated onto the Beach, carrying Hermione's limp form in his arms and running to the house. Dean called for Bill and Fleur to tell them Ron was back, but he stayed at his post, unsure of what else to do. Ron dashed up the steps with Hermione pressed against his chest, not even pausing for a second. Luna and Ollivander were now on the sofa, both drinking potions of some sort, looking around wildly at the commotion of Ron flying into the house with Hermione in his arms, not moving. 

"Harry's here!" Luna cried out, pointing to a window. Dean looked back over to the beach and saw Harry kneeling on the ground, Griphook sitting next to him and a small bundle lying motionless on to the cliffs. Luna and Dean both went to rush out, Bill following behind them. 

By the time everything had become clear, Dean found himself helping Harry dig a makeshift grave in the sand for the house elf named Dobby. The motion helped Dean; distracted him from the previous few hours and the horrors he had seen. He kept stabbing at the dirt, taking bigger and bigger piles and straining his muscles, hoping to feel anything that would cloud his mind enough to keep the visions of death at bay. When Dobby was buried, everyone moved back into the house and soon Harry, Ron, and Hermione were questioning Griphook. 

"There's a shower, mate. It's just upstairs and to the left," Bill said before he went upstairs, himself, to see what was going on. 

The aspect of a good hot shower screamed at Dean even more than the food cooking in the kitchen, and Dean took the chance, not knowing what was going to happen the next day. Dean stepped into the shower stall in the small bathroom and turned the water as hot as he could make it without burning his skin off. He kept his head down and let the steaming water run over him, but when he opened his eyes; he saw blood circling the drain. He lifted his hands to find them covered in dried, red blood that was slowly dissolving away, falling down his arms and following the water down to his feet. His face cried tears of the same blood, a macabre reminder that he still hadn't washed from when he had been captured. 

As he watched the blood slowly wash off of him, Dean's body began to shake; his mind overwhelmed by the sites and sounds of the previous night. He saw Dirk's body convulsing in pain as Greyback took bite after bite out of his flesh, before flinging warm remainders onto his own petrified body. He heard the cries of pain coming from Dirk, and the frantic yells from Ted. In Dean's mind, he could replicate the snap of Ted Tonk's neck so vividly, his body jumped at the sound. 

Dean fell to his knees, clamping his hands around his head as the water cascaded on him. He needed to find an escape; he needed relief from the painful, horrifying memories of moments ago. He breathed deeply, willing the visions out of his head. He thought of his home, of his mother, of summers at the Lake. Summers turned into thoughts of Seamus, the sun glinting off of his sandy hair as he smirked mischievously over some new plan. Dean's body began to relax; his mind began to slow, as he though of Seamus' sharp green eyes boring into his. He began to picture that Seamus was there with him, erasing the bad memories and replacing them with good thoughts. 

His mind manifested Seamus right in front of him, crouching down, the water covering his bare body. The stinging in his eyes and the horror in his head vanished, replaced by the soothing tenor of Seamus' voice. 

"It's all over now..." Seamus whispered, taking Dean's face in his hands. 

"Shay...Shay, I can't make it much longer..." Dean cried to his own mind's apparition. 

"It's all over now..." Seamus said again, reaching forward and kissing Dean gently on the lips. 

Dean was momentarily horrified at where his mind was taking him, but he relented, needing anything to get rid of the visions in his head. He closed his eyes and let out a soft moan as he pictured Seamus' hands running over his bare chest, and Seamus' lips pressed against his neck. His own hands followed the map that his dream was drawing across his skin. He pictured Seamus smiling, kissing up and down his body, clearing away the pain and turning it into something new, something restorative. 

When Seamus' hand ghosted over Dean's erection, Dean gripped his thick cock, began moaning loudly, and hoped no one could hear him over the running shower. He pumped quickly and furiously at himself as his mind splayed Seamus out in front of him, echoing his motions. Dean couldn't remember the last time he had touched himself, let alone the last time anyone had touched him. His body was so tense, so pent up that he cried out desperately for release the moment he began. 

As Seamus whispered soothing words in Dean's ear, Dean's release came hard, causing him to cry out Seamus' name over and over again. He leaned his head against the shower wall, relieved of his nightmare visions and replaced with equally alarming ones. Hot tears streaked down his cheeks as the water cooled, and Dean began to sob, hugging his own legs. 

"What am I doing?" Dean repeated to himself over and over as he rocked back and forth. 

_The carpet, too, is moving under you_

_  
And it's all over now, Baby Blue._

Seamus was grateful for is long legs and lithe body as he and Neville sprinted down the corridor, dodging curses thrown at them, while trying to throw some themselves. Neville was right, it was only a matter of time before someone tried to do away with the 'more difficult' students. Currently, Amycus and Alecto were racing after Neville and Seamus, insisting on punishing them for being out after curfew. The catch was that Neville and Seamus were only out because of a summons from Headmaster Snape. Neville assumed they had been tricked, that someone needed an excuse to punish them. 

A curse hit the right side of Seamus's face, creating a large painful gash. Seamus yelled out, gripping his face and tripping over his steps. Neville cast a spell, which collapsed the walls of the corridor, buying them a few moments for Neville to make sure Seamus was okay. He was healed in no time, but the pain still seared across his cheek as they continued to run. 

When they blasted away Neville's temporary block, Neville was hit in the eye with an errant brick as he was looking back. He ran with his hand over his eye, assuring Seamus that he didn't need any healing just yet. They needed to get to the Seventh Floor as soon as possible. For weeks, they had been sneaking supplies into the Room of Requirement, just waiting for the day when they would be forced into hiding. They couldn't leave the school, not with it under the control of such awful people. They were Dumbledore's Army! They had to keep this place ready and safe for anyone who needed it. 

Seamus and Neville ran up the last flight of stairs, screaming for help as they came within earshot of the unknowable room. Terry Boot came rushing out, wand drawn, offering a cover for the other two to make it inside. Just before reaching in the entrance, Seamus felt a slice on his calf and his legs gave out, sending him face first onto the stone floor. The last thing he remembered was the crunch of his own facial bones being shattered. 

When he came to, Seamus’ eyes creaked painfully open as he came face to face with not only Neville, but also Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein, Ernie Macmillan and Michael Corner. He tried to sit up, but his head swam and he felt like he was going to vomit. He just moaned and tried to smile while Neville gave him a healing potion. 

“Hope you don’t mind, but I let a few others in on the secret,” Neville said, gesturing to the other blokes. 

Seamus said nothing, just shook his head. The room looked like something out of one of his Muggle summer camps. It had brightly colored hammocks, flags from each of the houses, comfortable furniture, and chairs. Seamus was instantly comfortable in the place, and was pleased to hear that the tunnel behind the portrait of the little girl led to the old coot at the Hog’s Head and some serious sustenance. 

When Lavender came hobbling in, her arm slung over the Patil Twins, she tried to walk over the precipice. Seamus moved his aching body to her side, holding her hand as the collection of students did a hasty Healing Spell on her. Apparently one of those damn Death Eater Professors had felt the need to whip at her ankles in payment for an incorrect answer. Rage coursed through Seamus as he held onto Lavender, her tears soaking his shirt. Without Dean, she was the closest thing he had to a best mate, and she swore they wouldn't take her too. 

The space never seemed to get crowded, expanding and adding things depending on the number and type of inhabitants. After the first of the girls began to join them, a bathroom and more comfortable bunks had been added. The room began to finally smell good again, as their various products and perfumes wafted through the cavernous ceilings. A small store of healing potions and herbs was always on hand, like the room had read exactly what Neville needed. Seamus had a feeling the house elves could still find them, though they obviously never said a word to anyone. 

One day, just as Seamus was lying still and letting the various salves Neville had applied to him set in, the old man at the other end of the tunnel sent the girl in the painting to get Neville, who immediately left to go see what was going on. Lavender moved to sit next to Seamus on his bed, sitting still and quiet as the whole of the room waited for Neville to return with news from the outside world. 

Neville brought better than news. He brought Harry, Ron, and Hermione. 

The room erupted into celebration and cheers, with people asking as many questions as they could. Seamus learned that they really had broken into Gringotts and stolen a dragon. He wanted to know what Harry wanted in Gringotts, but Harry’s forehead started searing before he could answer. 

As everyone was celebrating, Neville went over to Seamus and pulled out his coin. Seamus grinned and they pressed their wands to the coins, casting the charm to call everyone back. Seamus was sure Dean would not have let go of his coin and would hear this call. If Dean was alive, Seamus would see him before all was won or lost. 

Seamus wanted to ask Harry if he'd seen Dean, if anyone had, but he felt like his question was small in the scope of things. As Harry talked about what was going on, what he needed to do, and what he expected to happen, Seamus just listened intently, offering up his own ideas and getting ready for war. Most of the questions had been evaded as Harry, Ron, and Hermione refused to answer the really big ones. Seamus hoped wherever Dean was, he was ready for the fight as well. 

An ethereal voice echoed through the entrance behind the portrait, and Seamus’ heart leapt in relief as he heard Luna. 

_Leave your stepping stones behind, something calls for you.  
Forget the dead you've left, they will not follow you. _

  
Seamus stopped paying attention, though, when he saw that black, curly hair come through the portrait hole. Seamus' world seemed to speed up as he let out a keening cheer and ran toward Dean. He forgot all the pain in his body, all of the insecurities about his recent feelings for Dean, and all of the people in the room, and threw his arms around Dean. 

Seamus was greeted in an equally voracious way, with Dean's long arms wrapping around him tightly, and a laugh in his chest. Seamus wanted to touch every inch of him to make sure he was there, that he was intact, but instead they settled on Seamus' bed and listened to the burgeoning plans for battle, their arms touching and the warmth bringing Seamus a soothing feeling he hadn't had since the previous summer. 

When Harry and Luna ventured out to find Ravenclaw's diadem, Dean turned to Seamus, and with a shaky hand, touched his face carefully "Oh Seamus, what did they do to you?" Dean said, his mouth bent in concern. 

Seamus touched Dean's hand on his face before shaking him off. "Nothin Nev over there couldn't fix, I'll be fine," he answered, trying to bring the smile back to Dean's face. "Why don't you finally tell me where your wand is?" 

Dean hung his head in shame. "The Snatchers got me...killed Ted and Dirk...took me away..." Dean said, his fists clenching. 

"Ted and Dirk?" Seamus said, wanting nothing more than to hold onto Dean's hands. 

"They took care of me out there! I was alone. I was starving, and I was barely getting by. Ted took me in, and then Dirk took us in! But the Snatchers couldn't get any money for grown men, so they fed them to that bloody wolf-man. I couldn't do a damn thing, not a fucking thing," Dean said roughly through clenched teeth. 

"Bloody hell..." Seamus said, gripping Dean's wrist as he attempted to drink in all of the new details. Dean just turned his head away, not wanting to meet Seamus' eyes. 

Soon, all of the Weasleys poured through the entrance, and a gigantic family reunion ensued. Ginny argued, Fred and George joked, and Percy Weasley came back. Everything finally felt like it was falling in place. Seamus looked back at Dean, aching to put an end to the shame and defeat in his eyes as people started exiting for the Great Hall. 

"No! This here, tis our chance! We can fight hard! Fight to the death if we have to! We'll get our fecking revenge for everything," Seamus whispered frantically, not wanting to disturb the eerie peace that had descended upon the room before the storm of battle. 

Dean turned to face him, his eyes nearly black with determination, his strong jaw flexing and his shoulders straightening. "Fuck yeah we will, Seamus. You and I..." Dean said, the dark sternness in his voice so overwhelming that Seamus almost turned to liquid under his gaze. 

A sudden eruption from the corridor told them it was time to ready, that it was time to start fighting. Everyone left in the room rose, gathered around, with no fear on the face of anyone. Dumbledore's Army was in full form; ready to get back the world they knew and loved. Every boy and girl, no, man and woman, gripped their wands tightly, their faces set in angry determination. They all met each other’s eyes, silently wishing their friends luck and hoping against hope everyone would make it out. 

"First thing, we'll _Expelliarmus_ you a wand," Seamus said, turning to Dean and knowing that they now mirrored each other in expression and mission. Something flickered in Dean's eyes that Seamus had never seen, and before he could take another breath, Dean's hands were pressed gently against the sides of Seamus' face. 

"Shay," Dean whispered, no question in his eyes, no worry on his face, just assurance. 

Seamus leaned up and pressed his lips hard against Dean's. There was a deep breath from both of them before Dean's taller body leaned down into Seamus', pressing together every part of them he could. Dean's tongue teased at Seamus' lips and Seamus complied, his hand reaching up to grip the back of Dean's neck. Dean tasted like fire, like all of the bright and explosive things that Seamus sought out. He tried to press himself even closer, to get more of that fire. 

Sudden loud cheers drew them out of their reverie, and Seamus looked around the room. He was not embarrassed, and neither was Dean. They just chuckled and turned back to the entrance. 

"Dumbledore's Army!" Neville shouted, brandishing his wand and racing out of the doors that had widened so many could exit at one time. 

They poured out of the Room of Requirement and into the chaos, all fighting side by side, and no one with any intention to give in until it was all over. 

_The vagabond who's rapping at your door  
Is standing in the clothes that you once wore. _

  
Dean’s body screamed in pain, but he couldn’t stop. The entire castle was in ruins, there were bodies scattered all over, and there was still so much to do. He nodded deftly at every order Professor Flitwick shouted out; wanting to do whatever he could to rebuild his home away from home. Seamus was at his side the entire time, both of them working as hard as they could despite injuries. When Flitwick said that everyone needed some rest, Dean nodded numbly and began to walk to Gryffindor Tower. 

Dean could not believe it. He had seen Voldemort fall. He had seen the Great Hall erupt in cheers. He had seen Harry get whisked away on a wave of celebration. Even as he now walked among the dead and the ruins of the castle, he still couldn’t wrap his mind around any of it. After so long, after so much fear and doubt, they were finally free. He heard a small clatter over the rubble to his left and knew that Seamus was by his side. Dean reached out his hand and folded it around his, unable to find any words. 

Seamus’ hand felt powerful in Dean’s. His fingers were thicker, shorter, and rougher, pressing firmly against his own as though letting go would take it’s own feat of strength. Dean had never held the hand of another man, but he felt like he had been holding Seamus’ for years. When they had climbed over the rubble of another staircase and arrived at the Gryffindor Common Room, he gripped Seamus’ hand tightly, fearful of what they would find. 

“In you go, dears,” the Fat Lady said, a watery smile on her face as the portrait swung open. 

Dean felt his chest lighten when he saw the common room was still relatively intact. The tower was too tall to be got to by the giants, and the battle must not have made it that far. 

They walked slowly into the common room, the eerie quiet making them fear that others were finally sleeping, as well, in the late afternoon sun. Dean ran his hands over the overstuffed chairs and made his way slowly to the boys’ staircase. He paused at a mirror, Seamus standing next to him, just slightly shorter and much more broad. It seemed to Dean that Seamus had gained a lot of muscle in his past year at Hogwarts, while Dean had grown even more wiry and lanky. Dean chuckled as he ran his hands over his face. 

"Why didn't you tell me I almost had a full beard going on over here?" Dean smiled, scratching at the whiskers on his face. 

"Reckon I'm not so concerned about matters of the face right now," Seamus quipped, gesturing to the lingering cuts and bruises across his own visage. 

"Marks of battle. Perfect," Dean murmured, touching Seamus' face gently and kissing him on the lips. Seamus lifted his hands to Dean's neck and kissed him back, his smooth lips gliding over Dean's. They pulled back after a few glorious moments and chuckled self-consciously. 

"We better get cleaned up. I can't remember the last time I've showered," Seamus said, his deep Irish brogue floating over Dean and easing the awkwardness he was feeling. 

"Tell me about it!" Dean said, feigning being struck by a terrible odor as they climbed the stairs. Seamus punched him in the arm, which led to an impromptu mock fistfight for the rest of the journey to the seventh-year dorms. 

When they walked in, Neville was nowhere to be found, his bed still made as though it hadn't been touched in weeks. Harry and Ron weren't in their beds either, causing Dean to worry slightly. 

"Awww come off it!" Seamus said, nudging at Dean's shoulder as he stared at the empty beds. "Yeh know they're just out buggering some bird…or a couple specific ones if you think on it...victory sex and all," Seamus winked, making a rude gesture with his hips. 

Dean couldn't help it; he could feel the blush creeping up his skin. He hoped it wasn't noticeable against his dark complexion. 

"Tis either that or grieve," Seamus said, looking at his feet. 

Dean wrapped an arm around Seamus shoulder for a moment before they made their way into the washroom. Dean began a Shaving Spell after he peeled off his pullover, boots, and socks. As he was carefully removing all the facial hair he had managed to grow in a few weeks, he looked in the mirror at Seamus and his stomach lurched. Seamus' back was turned to him, and he was sliding his shirt off of his shoulders. His pale, slightly freckled skin was familiar to Dean, but now all he wanted to do was run his fingers over the ripples of muscle on Seamus' back. When Seamus turned around and began to undo his belt, Dean shifted his gaze away so he would not get caught staring, and finished his quick shave. He waited until he heard the shower running before his shed his own clothes. 

Dean slipped into the shower stall next to Seamus, turning on the water and reveling momentarily in the warm comfort. Dean had been tall enough to see over the shower stalls for a few years now, and presently his height gave him full view of the entire room. He had to force his eyes closed to keep from glancing at Seamus' naked form in the stall next to him, but the image of water cascading over Seamus' sculpted body was overwhelming. Dean opened one eye and let it drift to his right. 

Seamus' torso was covered in long, barely-healed cuts stretching painfully across his stomach, down his sternum, and even weaving over his arms. Dean let out a gasp, his fists clenching in anger. Seamus jumped and looked up to meet Dean's eyes. 

"Shay...Your...what happened?" Dean said, his body responding in anger in anticipation at who could possibly do this. 

"I'm fine. Nearly all healed up now," Seamus said, turning around and hanging his head under the water. 

Forgetting how nude he was, or how nude Seamus was, Dean quickly went over to Seamus' stall, carefully opening the door by reaching over and undoing the latch. Seamus turned around, eyes wide as Dean entered. Dean walked up, running his thumbs lightly over the scars as his hands firmly gripped Seamus' arms. 

"Seamus, what happened? Who did this?" Dean whispered, his voice choking as he imagined the horrible pain this must have caused. 

"Just yer standard punishment for filthy half-bloods who make trouble," Seamus said, trying to smirk away the tense moment. 

"Fuck," Dean whispered. His hands quickly moved over the cuts across Seamus stomach and up his chest, carefully massaging the slick skin. Seamus closed his eyes and Dean's fingers continued to dance up and down all of his upper body, trying to wipe away the scars of the worst year of their lives. "I wish I could have killed them..." Dean whimpered, pressing his nose into Seamus' neck. 

"It's over now..." Seamus said, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist in the cascading water. 

Seamus' lips began to wander up Dean's neck and over his jaw line, and Dean couldn't help but moan and thrust back against Seamus' hips. The connection of both of their burgeoning erections caused them to gasp and Dean leaned down and kissed Seamus hard. 

Dean wound his hands in Seamus' hair, which had grown nearly down to his shoulders in the past year, and slid his tongue into the other's mouth. Seamus groaned and thrust his hips against Dean, his erection straining against Dean's thighs. Before Dean could process how hard and hot Seamus was for him, Seamus' hand had snaked down and wrapped around Dean's own member. 

"Oh god!" Dean exclaimed, thrusting his hips against Seamus' grip as he buried his face once again in the crook of his neck. He felt Seamus shift and begin to kiss down Dean's shoulders and chest. Dean gripped the wall of the stall when Seamus fell to his knees and began to kiss near Dean's erection. He shook as he looked down to see Seamus' beautiful mouth wrap around his dark prick, even as Seamus began to pump at his own erection. 

Dean fought the urge to let out a feral cry when Seamus' tongue swirled around his head. Dean's chest heaved as Seamus moaned below him, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold on for very long. He watched Seamus pleasure himself and the thought that this was turning his partner on enough to do that was sending Dean over the edge even as Seamus' cheeks collapsed around him. "Shay...I'm...." Dean groaned, unable to even speak as he gripped Seamus' shoulder tightly. 

He felt Seamus tense, and the resulting groan around his cock sent Dean finally over the edge. He spilled into Seamus' mouth as Seamus was coming in spurts on the shower floor. Seamus took all of him, and Dean could barely stand from the pleasure. He slowly sank to his knees to be face to face with Seamus, kissing him and loving the taste of himself on Seamus' lips. They sat for a long time in the flow of the water, until Seamus shivered and let out a chuckle. 

"Reckon we should get out o the water and dry off before we shrivel up," Seamus said, glancing up at him and smirking. 

He and Dean got up and toweled off. Seamus found Dean a spare pair of pajama pants, and he slipped them on, tightening the drawstring as far as he could while his ankles remained awkwardly exposed. Seamus put on a pair of shorts and turned to smile at him. 

"And it's all over now, baby blue," Seamus sang, sighing as he looked at the sunset out the window. 

Dean closed his eyes, sure he was dreaming, sure he would end up back in the forest, and sure that Seamus' voice would turn back into his Dylan CD. 

When he opened his eyes, Seamus was looking at him, puzzled. Dean closed the small distance between them and pulled Seamus roughly towards him. He kissed the Irishman with every bit of him he had, every piece of him that he kept hidden away while he was on the run. Profound relief was sweeping over him and he pressed his bare chest into Seamus', feeling the rough beats of the other's heart. 

Seamus' hands ran up and down Dean's back, lightly scratching as he did so, and causing Dean to moan in Seamus' mouth. Seamus immediately started to toy with the string on Dean's pants before a smile broke out against his lips. "Should have never lent yeh these bloody things." 

Dean returned the smile, reaching down and easily sliding Seamus' pants down his legs as Seamus muttered, "Show off." He pushed until Seamus' legs met the bed, and Dean laid them down on the nearest four-poster bed he could find. He placed his knees on either side of Seamus' hips, running his hands over Seamus' scarred chest. He could feel the familiar anger and pain rise, and he tried to quell it as he leaned down and kissed the pink wounds. 

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..." Dean whispered, his lips running over every piece of flesh he could reach. 

Seamus eyes were closed, his jaw clenched, and his hands were gripping Dean's thighs. Dean leaned up to try to gauge his face, but Seamus seemed to whimper at the loss of his lips. Dean kissed lower and lower, circling his tongue around Seamus' navel as he admired the very chiseled physique of his new lover. 

Dean was a little nervous as his lips began to brush lightly over Seamus' pink cock. He had never done anything this intimate with anyone before, and now he was about to do that and more with his best mate. However, as Dean ran his tongue experimentally over Seamus' shaft, and Seamus let out a growl from deep within him, Dean's courage was stoked. He took Seamus hungrily in his mouth, trying to take as much as he could, to make Seamus feel as good as he had felt just moments before. 

Seamus tasted raw, fiery, and woodsy, filling Dean's mouth despite not being quite as equipped as Dean, himself, was. The moans and whimpers Seamus was emitting were encouraging Dean to continue his ministrations, and causing him to be braver than he thought he could be. He pulled back and began to kiss down Seamus' bollocks, licking at the flesh between them and his entrance. He placed his dark hands on the pale globes of Seamus' arse and spread his mate open wide. When Dean's tongue found the musky taste of Seamus' puckered opening, Seamus cried out, thrusting his hips into the air. 

Dean kept laving his tongue across the delicate flesh, a smile playing on his lips as Seamus' uttered a stream of curse words in what was spoken in either highly garbled English or possibly Gaelic. When Dean's tongue breeched Seamus, he felt the other's hands grip his curled hair hard. Dean licked a finger and slowly slid it into Seamus, moving it lightly and hoping that what he was doing felt right for Seamus. 

When Dean pressed a second finger into Seamus, the sandy colored man grew alarmingly still. "Is this okay?" Dean whispered, moving up to Seamus' ear while his fingers remained inside of him. 

"Oh god, yes...I've never...it's just..." Seamus moaned, his wide green eyes meeting Dean's. 

Dean silenced him with a kiss, twisting his fingers around and Seamus moaned loudly into his mouth. After a few glorious moments of making Seamus squirm with pleasure, he pulled back. 

"Oh bloody fecking hell," Seamus murmured, his strong arms pushing Dean away and pressing his back onto the bed. He ripped off the pants he had just loaned Dean, a hungry look in his eyes that made Dean's mouth water. He reached for his wand and summoned something from his bedside table. 

Dean leaned up in shock at the sudden change just in time to see Seamus coat his dark member with something clear, smooth, and instantly warm. Dean groaned and reached out to grab Seamus' hips. 

Suddenly, Seamus was hovering over Dean, straddling his hips as he slowly lowered himself onto Dean's slick cock. Dean let out a cry when his head breached Seamus, reaching out to hold onto Seamus' hips as he began to shake. He opened his eyes as Seamus slowly sheathed himself on Dean while the former's eyes screwed shut and a look of pain appeared on his face. 

"Shay...are you okay?" Dean said, worried about the pace they were going, as he assumed they had both never done this before. 

"S'Okay..." Seamus murmured, still stock-still. 

Dean's body was screaming at him to move, but he kept his hands firmly wrapped around Seamus' hips, keeping them still until Seamus could adjust. Very soon, Seamus moved and they both let out moans of pleasure. 

Seamus fell forward, his hair creating a curtain around their faces as Dean thrust upwards. 

"Seamus, you feel so good, I'm not going to last long," Dean whispered, kissing along Seamus' jaw as a thin sheen of sweat formed on both of them. 

They continued to press into each other, creating a rhythm that sent Dean careening for the edge. 

"Gods, so big..." Seamus cried. "I'm so close." 

Dean reached between them, wrapping his hand around Seamus to bring him to completion as he went there himself. 

Seamus whispered Dean's name over and over as his body clenched around him, and Dean could do nothing but mutter incoherently when his release came, stars exploding behind his eyes. Dean spilled into Seamus' tight heat just as Seamus was coming all over Dean's thin chest. 

They stayed tangled in each other's arms, Seamus' head falling to Dean's shoulder, until their breathing slowed. Dean cast cleansing spells after he pulled slowly out of Seamus. 

Night had fallen and sleep was already weighing heavy on Dean's eyelids. He wanted to say so many things to Seamus, but couldn't find the words for any of them. Instead, he lay on his side, throwing a hand over Seamus' chest, and they both drifted off into a deeper sleep than they had experienced all year. 

_Strike another match, go start anew  
And it's all over now, Baby Blue. _


End file.
